First Christmas Perspectives
by AJCrane
Summary: A look at each person's perspective of their first Christmas without parents or with a new home. Chapter Three was replaced with the correct one.
1. Chapter 1 Bruce

I am writing a few perspectives leading up to Christmas. This one is on Bruce. Look for the next one in the coming days.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Bruce Wayne

By

AJ

"I HATE CHRISTMAS!" A young boy screamed. It was all he could do under the circumstances. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!"

"Oh Master Bruce, whatever is the matter?"

The living room was strewn with gifts, but none of them were open. The eight-year-old boy was lying across the couch, tears streaming down his face.

"I hate it! I hate it!," the boy continued to say, shaking his head and crying.

"Master Bruce, you must pull yourself together, and tell me what this is all about?"

"I asked him to bring them back, but he didn't! He didn't. He didn't!"

"Bring who back?" Alfred suspected, but he wanted his charge to say it. Only then could he console the boy, help him to understand that there were things that even Santa Clause could not fix.

'My parents," Bruce whispered.

'Ah," Alfred nodded. "Come here my boy and let me help you to understand. Santa Clause may be magical in many ways, but he cannot undo what he has not witnessed himself. And it has been nearly a year since they were taken . . . from both of us."

"Are you sad too Alfred?" Eight-year-old Bruce Wayne asked.

"Yes, Master Bruce, I am sad," Alfred responded. "But I am not going to allow that sadness to interfere in enjoying the Christmas holiday. Your parents loved Christmas and they tried to instill that in you."

"I . . . I know but . . . " another tear slipped down Bruce's face and Alfred wiped it away. "It's just so hard to face it without them."

"Come now, I know someone who is facing Christmas alone, and he would like to come in and say hello. In fact, I think we should invite him to dinner."

"Who?"

"Why that young police officer that helped you when you needed a friend. Officer James Gordon. I understand he has only been on the police force for barely a year as well. And I think he needs a friend."

"I guess we can invite him," Bruce responded.

"Good. I shall give the young officer a call, and we shall have him come over this evening."

"No, not this evening," Bruce said. "Today, right now."

"He might be with his family," Alfred stated.

"He told me that he didn't have any family. He decided to become a police officer when his parents were killed when someone tried to rob their home back in Chicago."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, maybe . . . maybe some day, when I get older . . . I want to do something to find my parents' killer. Maybe . . . maybe I could become a police officer like Officer Gordon."

"That would be admirable, Master Bruce," Alfred said. "And I am certain your parents would be very proud. Shall we see what Santa Clause has brought you?"

"Not right now, in fact. I think I would rather wait for Officer Gordon and he and I can take my presents down to the orphanage."

"The orphanage? Why Master Bruce, these are for you?"

"I know, but . . . I really don't want them. And if we save them, I'll be too old for them later. I think we should give them to someone who really will enjoy them."

"So much like your father," Alfred said. "Very well, Master Bruce. Why don't we gather them up and place them in the hall."

Alfred gathered the presents and was about to pick up a specifically rough looking one when Bruce stopped him.

"Not that one," Bruce said. "That one's for you."

"For me, young sir?"

"Yeah."

Alfred picked up another one of the presents and handed it to Bruce. "Well, if you are giving me a gift, then I should give you one too. This one is from me. The rest we shall give to the children at the orphanage."

"Thanks Alfred. And I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

"Oh, don't worry about it Master Bruce. We all go through those moments. I cannot promise that you will not feel the same next year, but things will get easier over time."

"Will it Alfred?"

Alfred looked into the boy's eyes and saw something there that hadn't been there before, a shadow that seemed to shroud the boy's soul in darkness where light could not penetrate. Though he knew Bruce's heart was primarily good, what happened to the boy caused him to change. He heard the boy that night, vowing to find the man responsible and to war on all criminals. Perhaps having Officer Gordon around might help to keep the boy's perspective away from that darkness. And perhaps, one day a ray of light will retouch that soul. For now, if he promised that things would get better, the boy might not totally believe him, but without giving him some hope, Alfred feared what might happen if he didn't.

"Perhaps, Master Bruce, perhaps. Christmas is a time of hope. Allowing hope keeps some of that darkness from swallowing us whole. My hope is that you shall grow into the fine man that you are meant to be. And that your parents would be proud of you, no matter what it is you decide to do. Whether it is to become a doctor like you wanted to do when your father was alive, or a police officer, or something else entirely."

"Thanks Alfred," Bruce said. "You better call Officer Gordon. I'm sure he's feeling lonely as Christmas too."

"Right away, Sir."

Alfred turned away, pleased to know that at least for a short time, he was able to keep some of the darkness at bay. 'Perhaps your son isn't lost to the darkness quite yet, Master Thomas. He misses you so. I shall do my best to help him in the years to come. That is my vow, and Merry Christmas."


	2. Chapter 2 Dick

A/N: I didn't expect Bruce to come into this perspective.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Dick Grayson

By

AJ

Dick was moping about the house, wondering the halls of Wayne Manor for the past week. It would seem the melancholy feelings he'd been having didn't want to leave him even as the weekend approached. Alfred had come in to wake him to dress for school. It was the last day before Christmas break. Dick thought about the past several months how his life had changed. His parents were killed back in March from their trapeze breaking due to someone . . . No, Dick did not want to go there, but he could not help thinking about that time. It was still too fresh in his mind. That same night, he had been whisked away by the Batman, taken to a cave where he swore an oath to fight crime and corruption, by Dick's insistence. Next thing he knew he became Bruce Wayne's ward and was moved into a mansion that was bigger than the Big Top. Six months of intensive training later, he was helping to get the goods on Tony Zucco who was put away for life. That September, Bruce enrolled him in school. Dick was put into the 8th grade middle school class after Bruce discovered, Dick was three grades above everyone else at his age. That would mean when he became a senior in High School, he would be 15.

At first it felt odd being the youngest in his class. A lot of the other students teased him, and that made it frustrating at times. Dick couldn't defend himself, not in the way that he would like. Three months into the school year, Dick found he had settled into the routine, going to school, studying, then going on patrol with Batman on the weekends. School kept him busy, and so did Bruce. It was as if Bruce was keeping him busy so Dick did not have to think about his parents' deaths so much.

"I don't want you brooding over them the way I brooded over mine," Bruce had said. "I know you need time to mourn, and I will be here when you need me, but becoming angry over what happened can only lead to unresolved issues later. Besides, you had one difference that I did not have."

"Difference?" Dick asked. "Besides my parents being killed the way they were, what's the difference?"

"You got to catch your parents' killer. Mine is still out there."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Gee Bruce, I'm . . . I'm really sorry. We'll catch him someday."

Dick had seen that Bruce was taken aback by his words. Bruce had not expected the young flier to really continue his crime fighting, but there was Dick in the cave continuing to study criminology and practicing an intensive workout routine that would have tired out even the most seasoned military veteran.

Dick was brought out of his thoughts when suddenly, several people walked by him carrying boxes. He had not seen them before. His curiosity got the better of him and he followed the men to the large living room. He watched as they rearranged the furniture and started putting up . . . decorations?

"Excuse me," someone nearly bowled him over as the person carried in a very large pine tree.

What was going on? His eyes became wider as he watched what was unfolding before him. Then he realized what it was they were doing. They were the decorators and they were decorating the place for Christmas. He had never seen anything like it before, at least not with regards to a house as large as the Manor. He remembered his Mother and Father getting a tree when they were living in Florida, but it never really felt like Christmas, not like it was in the movies they would watch together. And here in the Manor someone was decorating for the Christmas Holiday that was happening in less than a week.

"Dick, you're going to be late for school," Bruce had come in. "I see the decorators have arrived very early. I'll be working in the study today."

"Bruce, what's . . ."

"Not now, it's almost 8:00 and you need to get to school. We'll talk later."

Dick was ushered out with his backpack and jacket, but who could think of school at a time when it seemed even the city was getting ready for Christmas. He hadn't really paid attention to it before, having been concentrating on studies and his training. Once at school, he was soon finding himself in the middle of other conversations about the upcoming Christmas break.

"I can't wait," a fellow student said.

"I heard that billionaire Bruce Wayne is fitting the bill."

"To think he's flown them in just for this occasion."

"Flown whom in?" Dick asked.

"Don't you know anything? You live with the guy."

"He's putting on a charity event for the orphaned children and he's flying in the biggest entertainers for a great big Christmas Gala event. It's this weekend. How couldn't you have heard about it?"

"I even heard that Haly Circus will be there. And all the money will go to the Gotham Orphans Fund."

'Haly, Pop Haly?' Dick was astounded. 'Why didn't Bruce tell me?'

For the rest of the day Dick Grayson was in a fog. He almost missed the last bell of the day to leave.

"Have a great Holiday!"

"Call me over Christmas, we'll go ice skating in Gotham Central Park."

Dick started home, angry and hurt that Bruce would hide something as important as Haly Circus coming to the Gotham City area. Dick, though, didn't know whether to be mad at Bruce or at Pop Haly for not fighting hard enough for him to remain in the circus, but at the same time, the circus held memories that he did not wish to be reminded of, the death of his parents. And with Christmas looming, it was almost more than he could stand. Who could think of joy and peace when his heart was in turmoil. Without another thought, Dick Grayson turned up the road, but it wasn't toward home. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn't know who and he didn't feel like talking to Bruce with the way he was feeling. And Alfred would only just encourage him to talk to Bruce.

'Mom, I wish you were here,' Dick thought. "You always could make me feel better when Dad and I would argue.'

Dick wondered the streets of Gotham City further and further from where he should have been. The buildings were starting to look more run down and the people were also looking about as shabby as the buildings themselves. Dick had been to this part of the city, but only as Robin. Without his costume, he felt vulnerable and alone.

'Oh why did I come here?' he thought. 'I . . . think . . . I'm lost.'

Something caught his eye and he hurried to the open doorway that greeted him and anyone who entered. The place was dark, but it had none of the oppressive feeling that the streets did. The stain glass windows gave the place an ethereal atmosphere. Candles were lit in various corners and a strange structure with several figures and what looked like a child lying in a bed of straw were lit by the eerie glow. He approached the scene in awe and stood there in silence.

"He was born so we may be forgiven," said a gentle voice. "Are you lost?"

Dick looked up into the eyes of a man dressed in black. "Who are you?"

"My name is Father Michael."

"I . . . I came in to get warm," Dick said, which wasn't fully a lie. The sun had gone down and he hadn't paid attention to the time, and the night was turning cold.

"You may stay as long as you like. What is your name, Son?"

". . . Richard."

"Well Richard, is there something I can do for you?"

Seeing the scene in front of him Dick Grayson was reminded every Christmas his mother would read him the Christmas story from the Bible. "Faith gives us the courage to fly, " she said once. "Faith also tells us to forgive."

"Why did they have to die?" Dick suddenly asked the priest.

"Who died?"

"My parents."

"Are you all alone?" the priest asked, thinking that Richard had no home.

"No," Dick answered. "I have a guardian, but . . . I miss my parents. Every Christmas Eve we would perform for the orphans in our community and then we would help with the homeless. Then when it got dark, we would light candles and . . . sing carols . . . and have hot chocolate . . . and read . . . " Dick couldn't finish his thoughts.

"Don't you do those things with your guardian?"

"This is the first Christmas I've been without my parents."

"Oh. To answer your question, we cannot know the 'why' of what happened. Not always. Sometimes there is no answer, and we must live with what we are given. Now, let me ask you a question. Are you happy living with your guardian?"

"I . . . yeah I guess . . ." Dick hesitated. "I'm . . . kind of mad at him right now . . . and . . . I needed some time to think."

"I see. Well, I'll let you sit here for a while and when you are ready, we'll call your guardian. I'm certain he'll be very worried about you."

Dick thought about how he was brushed off earlier today. "I don't know . . . he was kind of busy."

"Well, we will need to let him know that you are all right, sooner or later."

The priest left Dick sitting in front of the manger to gather his thoughts. Soon the warmth from the candles and the darkened church was lulling our young bird to sleep.

"Thank you, Father Michael for watching over him."

"I'm glad he found his way in here. He seemed very troubled."

"Did he say anything?"

"He talked about losing his parents. Tell me Mr. Wayne, how did he lose his parents?"

"They were murdered."

"He spoke about performing. Were his parents actors?"

"No, trapeze artists," Mr. Wayne replied. "Someone sabotaged their trapeze. He was lucky that he did not fall with them. I wonder why he didn't come home? He usually does."

"I think I can answer that. It is almost Christmas, and Richard spoke about the things that he and his parents would do together. Were you planning to do something very special with him?"

Bruce looked down on the face of his sleeping ward. "I was planning on surprising him with something special, but . . . what was it that you had in mind?"

"That is up to you Mr. Wayne, but this little boy is still grieving for something he has lost. He cannot be happy until that grief has been released. He came in here looking for solace. He needs more than just a friend."

Bruce picked up Dick in his arms as he continued to sleep. "Oh Dick. Why didn't you come to me? What caused you to run away, to seek solace in a church?' Bruce shook his head and knew the answer to that. He'd been keeping Dick too busy to even think about grieving, as if that would make a difference. Perhaps there was a place for grief. 'And with Christmas around the corner . . . And it being his first without . . . Oh Dick.' Bruce held Dick close, hugging him tight. "Thank you Father Michael. I'll be taking him home. We'll have a lot to talk about."

Bruce carried his son out the door and into the night as snow started to fall.


	3. Chapter 3 Bruce and Dick Part 1

A/N: This continues Dick's Perspectives, but adds Bruce. Christmas in the Wayne home isn't all that rosy right now.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Bruce and Dick Part 1

By

AJ

Dick woke up in his own bed feeling miserable. His throat was sore. He hadn't expected to be wondering around Gotham City in the state that he was in, but at the time, he hadn't wanted to go straight home, and now he was paying for it. He curled up on his side still feeling hurt and betrayed.

Bruce came in at that moment to find Dick curled on his right side. Soft sobs were coming from him. "Dick? Are you all right?"

Dick turned his back, away from Bruce, not wanting him to see that he was upset.

"Dick, why did you run away?"

"I . . . I didn't . . . run . . . away," Dick stated, his voice rough. "I . . . why didn't you . . . tell me that . . . Haly's Circus was . . . coming to Gotham City?"

"Where did you hear that?" Bruce asked.

"At school. Everyone was talking . . . about the Christmas Gala . . . . Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you," Bruce said, his eyes down cast. "You've been moping around here I thought maybe . . ."

Dick coughed, feeling the rawness in his throat. "I'm sorry, Bruce. It's the first Christmas without my parents . . ."

"Believe me Dick, I know how you feel. I didn't tell you for other reasons."

"What reasons?" Dick asked.

" . . . Haly has a new aerial act," Bruce said quietly.

Dick was stunned. Pop Haly replaced his parents? How . . . how . . . could he . . .

Bruce became alarmed when he saw the color drain from Dick's face. "Dick? Breath, Dick." He didn't dare tell him the second reason, that he didn't really know how Dick would feel once he would find out about the first, but Dick seemed to recover and then he asked, "When will the circus be arriving?"

"Christmas Eve," Bruce answered. "They will be here until New Year's Day. They will be performing for charity."

Dick swallowed hard. His throat was hurting. Bruce noticed Dick's distress and he frowned. He brushed his hand across Dick's forehead. It felt warmer than normal. Alfred came in at that moment carrying a tray with a hot cup of tea. He also brought a thermometer.

"I thought the young man might require this. Open your mouth," Alfred instructed and he placed the thermometer into Dick's mouth. Four minutes later, he checked it. "You are running a low temperature. So, tomorrow at least, you will remain in bed and rest. Now, drink all of the tea. That will soothe your throat. I will bring you some water and some children's Ibuprofen for the temperature and sore throat."

After Alfred left, Bruce continued his inquiry. "Dick, you seemed shocked that they would get another act. Were you having second thoughts about . . . "

'I . . . don't know. Maybe," Dick said, his eyes downcast. "I mean I do miss everyone . . ."

"I know the past three months have not been easy. I am going to repeat what I said after we took down Tony Zucco. I hadn't intended for you to continue your Robin career. The look in your eyes was the same look I had when my parents were killed. And though I was reluctant at first, I could see how important it was for you to hunt down your parents' murderer. You did just that. And that murderer paid the price. You at least have closure."

"Bruce, I . . ."

"Please, here me out. With the winter break from school, this is the perfect time for you to make a decision."

"What kind of decision," Dick asked.

Bruce turned so Dick could only see part of his face. "With the circus here, you can decide what it is you truly want," Bruce's words were soft and Dick almost didn't hear them. "I will abide by your decision. This will always be your home." Bruce got up to leave, and Dick could see that something in Bruce's demeanor had changed. Something dark had slipped between them. Before Bruce's back would be straight and he would hold himself with pride. Now his shoulders were slightly slumped and his head was down.

What was Bruce saying? That if he really wanted to he could go back to the circus instead of . . . But Pop Haly had a new act. Still, the circus had been his home. And the thought of not being there . . . not performing . . . And the past three months had been . . . But what would that mean for . . . Dick watched as Bruce left him alone in his room. The room felt colder somehow. Less friendly. Something tightened in Dick's chest at seeing the way Bruce looked and his eyes began to water. A tear slipped down him cheek.

'But I'm his ward. Doesn't he want me any more?"

That night, Dick's temperature rose to over 102. He tossed and turned in his sleep, throwing off the covers. Alfred came in and checked his temperature again. This time he grabbed a washcloth and started bathing the boy to bring down his temperature. As Alfred bathed Dick, the flier was muttering in his sleep.

"No, don't leave me, Bruce. Poppy, don't you want me? No, don't leave me alone. Mom, Dad, please why did you leave me. Everyone, please come back."

"Shhhhh. No one is going to leave you Master Richard."

The dream that he was having filled Alfred with dread and an annoyed look came over the butler's face. Bruce was nowhere to be found. He would usually be here helping to take care of the boy through the worst of his fevers, but it was as if Bruce was avoiding Dick for some unknown reason.

'Master Bruce, whatever you said to the boy, you better have an explanation.'

Dick didn't start to feel better until Christmas Eve. He stayed out of the way since Bruce was having a small party for the Wayne Foundation and he didn't feel in a party mood. Though he didn't feel like mingling, he couldn't help spying on the festivities just the same.

"Where is that ward of yours, I've been wanting to meet him."

"He's been sick the last few days," Bruce answered.

"Oh that's too bad. I hope he feels better."

"It's a shame being sick on Christmas."

"I'm sure he'll feel better by tomorrow."

"Master Richard, you should not be sitting on the stairs in this drafty hallway. Get back up to your room at once."

"Yes, Alfred," Dick meekly obeyed. What he really wanted to do was spy on Bruce, to know what it was he was feeling, but a shadow seemed to have fallen over him, and any emotion he might have felt from Bruce seemed to have been swallowed up in that shadow. Dick never felt so much alone as he did in that moment.

The next day was Christmas, but Dick didn't feel much like celebrating. Even though he was certain there were gifts waiting for him under the tree, he didn't feel like opening them. Even so, his stomach was what made the decision for him. So, Dick put on his robe and headed downstairs hoping to find some breakfast.

"SURPRISE!"

That sounded like a crowd. Dick turned toward the living room and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Pop Haly, Sampson the strong man, Gunther the lion tamer, all the clowns, and Sasha the fortuneteller, they were all there. There were a couple of new faces he didn't recognize. He was just wondering whom they were when Pop Haly suddenly rushed up and grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up.

"Dickie Bird, how have you been? Let me look at you," Pop Haly held him at arms length to get a good look at him. "There's something different about you. You've grown a bit and you feel just as strong as your father had been."

Dick's head lowered becoming a bit shy and subdued.

Bruce was standing off to the side, watching the proceedings, his face a stone mask. His eyes were the only things that gave any hint at what he was feeling. He noticed that something was wrong. Usually the boy was boisterous and lively, even around guests he first met. Dick knew Haly. Why was Dick being subdued? Bruce surprised himself at just how well he seemed to know the pre-teen's moods in such a short time. He was about to give his ward a slight nudge when Haly saved him the trouble.

"You know, I was really worried when you disappeared the night your parents were killed. As you know Newtown was the first stop on our tour. Everyone was expecting to see the Flying Graysons. Um I mean, we were really worried when you were missing. We thought you ran away."

"I . . . uhm . . . " Dick didn't know what to say. He didn't expect to hear that his circus family had been worried about him, but how could he tell Pop Haly that he had overheard what Zucco's men had said? And that Batman had taken him to safety, to train him.

"Well, enough of that. I'm just glad you found a good home. Though you know the circus will always be your home if you ever want to return. I helped bring you into this world and I am also your godfather . . . if you wish to . . . " Haly didn't say anything more, not wanting to insult their host.

Dick hadn't known that Pop Haly was his godfather, so why hadn't Pop Haly become his guardian? Was it fear of retribution from Zucco? He recalled the fear in Haly's voice. He didn't want to recall those moments. His face must have revealed what he was feeling.

"Oh Dickie, my boy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about sad times when today is supposed to be about joy. I did bring you something I think will please you. It's outside, but first I want you to meet someone." Haly waved the couple over. They had been hiding on the fringe of the large group.

Dick observed that they actually appeared nervous.

"Dick, I'd like you to meet James and Amanda Tabares."

"How . . . how do you do?" Dick said stretching out his had in greeting. The two, however seemed to be in awe of him and didn't shake his hand.

"Are you really Richard Grayson of the Flying Graysons?"

"Uh, yeah," Dick responded.

'Oh my, Mandy. The Graysons were legendary. To think we're meeting the youngest performer ever to do the quadruple flip."

Dick found his voice at that moment and asked, "How long have you two been working the traps?"

"Four years," James Tabares said. "I started late. Took over for my brother when he was injured. Amanda is my sister."

"Oh look at the time," Haly said. "We've got to rehearse for tonight. I better get this trouped back to the arena." There were some disappointed moans at having to leave. "Mr. Wayne, you must bring Dick and not just to see the show. The reason not only for our visit is to ask if you would allow Dick to perform with us."

Bruce looked over at his ward. The look on Dick's face told it all.

"That will be up to Dick."

"You haven't been on a trapeze since . . ." Haly started to say.

". . . I can do it," Dick said. "I better get dressed."

Dick raced up the stairs and quickly changed. He was going with Pop Haly to the arena . . . he hesitated at that moment. What about Bruce? 'He said it was up to me . . . '

"Hurry up Dickie Bird, if you're coming with us, you have to hurry. Rehearsals will begin in less than two hours."

"Coming Poppy." Dick raced down the stairs and stopped at the front door. He turned to see Bruce standing between the entrance to the living room and the study. His face was unreadable.

Alfred came in at that moment. "Master Richard, where are you going?"

"Let him go, Alfred."

"I don't understand. It's Christmas. We haven't even opened our gifts."

"I don't feel much like celebrating."

"It's the time to spend with family," Alfred argued.

Bruce did not respond, but kept his eyes on the door. It would seem Dick had made his decision, and now he would have to live with it. Or had he?

Continues with Part 2


	4. Chapter 4 Bruce and Dick Part 2

A/N: This continues Dick's Perspective, but adds Bruce. What will Dick's decision be? Or will that decision be taken away from him.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Bruce and Dick Part 2

By

AJ

When Dick Grayson stepped out of the Wayne Manor, his eyes grew wide. In the driveway was his parents' circus wagon they would use as their temporary home. His eyes misted over and he slowly approached the wagon as if he was in a dream. He could clearly see their name, The Flying Grayson's painted on the surface, the red, yellow and green trademark colors, the very colors that Dick wore in his Robin uniform. Dick ran his hands along the wooden surface. He looked over at Pop Haly expectantly. Pop Haly nodded in his direction and Dick went toward the back of the wagon and opened the door. Everything was still in place from the last time he saw his parents alive. There were dishes in the small sink with the pots and pans that his mother used to cook their last meal together.

"Hey Dick!" Haly shouted/ "We need to get to the Gotham Arena. You can explore the wagon later."

"Okay," Dick replied. "I need to grab a costume." Dick opened the drawer that had been his storage area. He grabbed the red and green costume only to discover it had been the one he had worn when his partns had been killed. He grabbed the white and red one instead but when Dick held it up, he realized his mother had not had a chance to repair that one, and never would again. So, once again he was grabbing the red and green one. He then grabbed a bag and placed the costume inside.

"Aren't we going to need the wagon?" Dick asked.

"Not at the arena, and only if you decide . . ." Haly didn't finish.

'Oh yeah,' Dick thought. 'The decision that Bruce had left up to me.'

Dick stepped out of the wagon and placed his hand on the door. This wagon brought back so many memories. It also brought back the fact that he was no longer living in that wagon with his parents. He had been taken from that life, not by choice so much, but to save his life because of what he had overheard. Persuading the Batman to help him find his parents' murderer changed his life forever, which he did accomplish. And now he had a second chance to fly again just for the thrill of it. And yet, he could not help looking back at the Manor.

"Come on, Dick. You're going to need to practice. You've been off the traps from nine months."

"I'm sure I'll be okay," Dick said. "It's like riding a bike. Once you learn you don't forget." Dick flashed Haly a smile. Of course, he wasn't about to tell Pop Haly what he'd been up to since he . . . had been away. He sounded like he had already decided to go back to the circus, but Dick knew it was more complicated than that. There was something he would have to give up and right now, he didn't know if he was willing to do that. Sometimes he wished he felt like that ten-year-old boy before everything changed.

/

"Master Bruce, why did you let him leave?" Alfred asked, dismayed.

"Because he wanted to," Bruce said, turning back to the living room. He could see that the gifts had been untouched. And he wasn't in the mood to open any of them since Dick wasn't there. In fact, he was beginning to regret even celebrating the holiday. "Take down everything."

"Sir?"

"Call the decorators and have this stuff removed."

Alfred suddenly stiffened. "No, sir"

"No?"

"It is Christmas Day. The decorators will be with their families. And you are going to want to celebrate when Master Richard comes home."

"I don't know if he's coming home," Bruce said softly.

"Do not forget, tonight you must be at the Gala to open the ceremony, and no you cannot get out of it."

"Very well Alfred. I expect you to be there as well."

"I would not miss it for the world."

/

'I can't believe it,' Haly expressed to himself. 'Look at him. He looks stronger than he did before his parents . . . Do you think? I wonder what that kid has been doing? I was right when I put his name in that book. Now, if I can persuade him to stay, maybe in a year or two . . .' Haly looked over to the brother and sister trapeze team. Their eyes were as wide as saucers. 'Maybe I'm not the one to persuade him.'

Dick felt free, at least for the moment. Being up in the air was all he ever wanted to be. He hadn't been able to do this as often as he would have liked. Bruce had kept him pretty busy, schoolwork, other types of training, and studying criminology and the criminal files that Batman had collected over the few years. He hadn't been able to just have fun.

"Are you ready?" Dick called out. "James? Are you ready? You're the catcher."

"Oh, sorry Dick, I couldn't help myself. What is it you want me to do?"

"Catch!"

"Oh yeah."

'Hero worship?' Dick thought. 'I'm just another flier, like him . . . No, not quite. I can do the quad . . . Which I am working up to do right now.'

Dick swung his legs to build up momentum, stretching them in front of him as he swung back toward the platform. He did that three times before he finally let go . . . flipping four times in the air . . . then stretching out his arms to be caught by James just as his father had done.

"I never would have believed it if I hadn't see it with my own eyes," James said.

When he was ready and the performer's bar was right at his finger tips Dick grabbed the bar and swung back to the platform.

"You haven't lost your touch!" Haly shouted up at him.

Dick didn't answer, but turned to watch the brother and sister team. They reminded him of his parents, but at the same time, they needed a lot more polish with their act. Amanda could only do a double flip, though her spins were a little better. Her layout wasn't bad though it should be straighter. And her over the bar technique, the timing wasn't quite there. They were good fliers to be sure, but they still needed a little more refinement in their movements. That usually came with practice and experience. And even though Dick had unofficially not performed in nine months, he continued to practice. He had more experience than Amanda and James, even at that age. He had started working on the traps at the age of four. Two more years of experience did make a difference.

"Hey, you three. You better hit the showers and get some sleep in. Our performance for tonight is at 8:00 PM. Mr. Wayne will be here to watch, so do your utmost."

What? Bruce? A knot formed in Dick's stomach. It felt too much like the last time.

As the three fliers climbed down, Dick asked James, "Will we be working without the net?"

"Without the net?"

"My parents always worked without the net when they performed."

"But that's a lot more dangerous," Amanda said, overhearing Dick's question. "Pop Haly doesn't let us work without a net."

'I can see why,' Dick thought. "Well, if you're going to use the net, I guess I can, too."

"No, if you want to do it without the net, you could go last. After all, you're the one who can do the quad and that would really get the crowd going. And you're our special guest."

Trepidation aside, Dick didn't know whether to be thrilled or scared. He thought about that night. He had gone first in the performance. He did his part and he had been fine, except for the sudden tug that he felt when his father caught his wrists. He didn't think anything of it until . . . then he saw his parents falling and both trap line had broke.

'I'm not going to be satisfied unless I check those traps,' Dick thought.

"Come on Dick," James slapped Dick on the back, almost startling him out of his thoughts. "Let's get something to eat then get some sleep."

Dick followed James and Amanda out of the main arena and down into the lower level to the dressing room. His body was weary after practicing for three hours, but not as weary after one of Bruce's extended workouts. Maybe if he did get a little sleep, his mind would be clear for tonight. There was still time later to check to be sure everything was in order.

"NO!" Dick shot up out of his sleep, his chest heaving from the nightmare. Why . . . why now. Then he realized why. It was only nine months since his parents died, and here he was planning on performing with a couple of people who, oddly enough, reminded him of his parents. He rubbed his face and realized he had been crying. He looked up at the time and realized it was almost 7:30. Shoot! He wasn't going to be able to check the traps before the performance. He just hoped everything would be all right.

"Dick? Are you all right?" Amanda called. "I heard you cry out."

"It's . . . okay," Dick lied, though he didn't feel all right. The dream actually left him shaken. 'I've got to pull myself together. Bruce is counting on me,' he thought. 'No, wait. I don't even know if he's here. Well, looks like . . .'

"Come Dickie Boy," Pop Haly called. "Show time."

Dick's stomach growled. 'Oh no, I slept through dinner. Mom and Dad would kill me if I didn't eat before a performance.'

Dick went to the food court. He saw a couple of other performers but then realized, 'Oh no, I don't have any money.'

He looked at the time and it was close to 8:00 pm. He raced to the arena entrance and found Amanda and James.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! INTRODUCING THE FLYING TABARES! And we have a special guest, the youngest flier to ever perform the quadruple flip! Back from a nine month hiatus, RICHARD GRAYSON of the FLYING GRAYSONS!"

The applause was thunderous. If Dick could hear the murmurs from the audience he would have heard some of his classmates.

"Dick Grayson? You mean that Dick Grayson?"

"Bruce Wayne's ward?"

"It can't be the same person. Didn't he disappear after his parents died?"

Dick climbed up to the platform. He tried to keep his nerves from getting the better of him. He hadn't performed in so long, but once he was up on the platform something kicked in that he could not explain. Dick watched as Amanda and James performed their part of the act. When it came time for him to do his, it was so surreal. It was as if he was back there, the last night with his parents, but there were some differences. When he finally completed his portion of the act and they were once again down on the ground, Dick breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing happened as he feared, but at the same time, his chest ached. He did his routine perfectly, but something was missing.

"You did wonderfully," Amanda said. "Oh you would be a great addition to our act."

"What?"

"That's right," James said. "You were fantastic! You could teach us so much."

"They are right," Pop Haly said. "The circus is your home. You're not meant to be that spoiled billionaire's ward. He's nothing but a womanizer . . . He knows nothing about taking care of a kid."

"That's not . . ." Dick started to argue when someone else patted him on the shoulder.

"It's great to have you back. We all missed you."

Dick looked up to see Bruce standing in the entry to the arena where the performers would enter. The look on his face was neutral, no emotion what so ever. He turned away then walked back down the ramp, away from the main room of the arena. Other performers surrounded Dick blocking his view. The sudden sinking feeling as he saw Bruce leave, caused Dick to cry out. It had been wonderful to fly again, but . . . he realized this wasn't his life any more. And Dick knew exactly what he wanted.

"BRUCE!"

Dick pushed through the crowd, trying to get through.

"BRUCE!" He continued trying to push through the crowd, but it was becoming more difficult as other well wishers surrounded the young flier. "BRUCE! DAD WAIT!"

By the time Dick got through the crowd Bruce was gone. He ran out of the arena to see Bruce's limousine pulling away from the curb. 'NO!' Tears streamed down his face to mix with the falling snow. Without bothering to change, Dick raced after the limo. He hoped to be able to catch up to the car, but it was no use. At least he knew where Bruce was going. Looking around, Dick spotted a city bus going in his direction. When to bus came to a stop, Dick leapt and landed on the roof and almost slipped off. The roof of the bus was slick with ice. There wasn't much traction. He hung on for dear life, hoping that the bus was at least going in the same direction as the limo, but all too soon the bus was turning toward downtown Gotham and the limo was heading for the main highway that lead out of Gotham.

Dick jumped down and continued to race after the limo, but it was soon out of sight, and Dick was beginning to tire. He hadn't eaten since last night and he wasn't dressed for the weather. Plus, he was now several miles away from the arena, and it was nearing midnight. Regret and dismay filled him as he continued to walk in the direction where Bruce had gone until he couldn't see where he was going.

The snow was falling heavily and Dick was starting to become sleepy. He reached the bridge that crossed into Bristle County outside of Gotham, but he couldn't go any further. He stopped and stared and wavered on his feet. His knees buckled and soon he was falling into the snow by the side of the road.

"Bruce," Dick called out one more time before drifting into sleep, a warmth spreading through him, which he might never wake from again.

/

A warmth spread through Dick then someone was placing a wash cloth on his forehead. He suddenly sneezed and his eyes fluttered open.

"Thank goodness. We feared the worst."

Dick recognized the voice as Alfred. "Bruce . . . Don't . . . leave me," Dick murmured in his sleep. A tear tracked down his cheek and it was brushed away.

"Shhhhh, I'm right here," Bruce said, his voice gentle and soothing. "Where did you say you found him?"

"We found him by the side of the road leading back to Wayne Manor," Dick recognized the voice of Amanda Tabares. "He was almost frozen. We're sorry Mr. Wayne. We didn't know how much you meant to him."

"When we saw Dick race after you, we realized we had no right to ask him to stay with us," James said. "He called you Dad."

Bruce's eyes became wide when he heard what James had said.

"And after seeing how you care for Dick, I think Pop Haly was wrong to say those things."

"We need to be going anyway. We won't be staying. The circus will be leaving in a couple of days. Merry Christmas Mr. Wayne. Tell Dick that he really is a boy wonder. You should be proud of him."

Bruce sat by Dick's bed, placing a wash cloth on his fevered brow. When Dick started to shiver, Bruce picked him up in his arms blanket and all and held him until the shivering stopped. Tears formed in Bruce's eyes, tears of relief and even joy.

"Master Bruce, you did not tell me what happened to cause such anguish between you two."

"It doesn't matter Alfred," Bruce said. "My boy's come home. And you were right we do have something to celebrate. I nearly lost him. I got my Christmas wish."

"What wish was that, Sir?"

Bruce looked down into the sleeping face of his son. HIS son, he realized, and he could feel the darkness from his soul receding. "The light's come back."


	5. Chapter 5 Jason Part 1

A/N: This one took a little longer to come up with. I had to get into young Jason's mindset. Figured the type of Christmas he might have had before he met Bruce was one where everything came from a handout and then being at Wayne Manor would have been a little overwhelming. It's also the first time he will meet Dick Grayson. I also didn't expect it to go to two parts.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Jason

By

AJ

Part 1

Jason Todd moved around the living room looking at all the pictures while Alfred was putting up the garland around the fireplace. It had been three months since Jason came to live with them. One photo drew his attention, one that he hadn't really paid attention to until now.

"Who's the old lady?"

"That 'old lady' as you put it Master Jason was Mrs. Harriet Cooper."

"Who is she?" Jason frowned. He had seen a picture of Bruce's parents and the old woman didn't look anything like a Wayne to him. She smiled out at the photographer.

Alfred moved over to view that particular image recalling how Mrs. Cooper didn't think it was her best shot.

"Mrs. Harriet Cooper was Master Richard Grayson's aunt."

"His aunt?" Jason asked. "Why did this Richard Grayson live with Bruce when he could have been living with her?"

"Master Richard came to live with Master Bruce first and Mrs. Cooper came later. Master Richard explained to me that she wasn't really his aunt, but a friend of his Mother's. She helped in raising Master Richard," Alfred explained. 'And she felt they needed a woman in the house, rest her soul.' Alfred did not voice that thought. "Come Master Jason. The next step is putting on the lights."

Jason moved to one of the boxes and pulled out a string of lights that were badly tangled. "What a mess."

"I dare say you are right."

"Who put this away the last time?"

"I confess, I allowed Master Bruce to assist and needless to say, he apparently received an important phone call, and I did not check to see that the lights were properly stored." Alfred thought about the phone call, knowing that it had been a call for the dynamic duo.

"When is Bruce coming back?"

"Master Bruce won't be here I'm afraid."

"Then why are we doing this?"

"For you, young Sir," Alfred replied.

"Me?!" Jason's eyes became wide. The last time he celebrated Christmas, his mother became really sick. His father by then had disappeared. Jason assumed he just gave up and abandoned them. In order to celebrate any Christmas it had been up to Jason. He had gone to a nearby community center where they were passing out bags of groceries containing items for a Christmas dinner, even a turkey. They also handed him a wrapped gift.

"Can I get one from my Mother?" Jason asked. "She's sick."

"Sorry kid. Only one gift for each kid."

Jason looked crestfallen.

"Have a heart Mack. The kid's mom is sick."

"How do we know that?"

Jason had also picked up his mother's prescription from the pharmacy that morning and it was still in his jacket. He showed the guy.

"See, these are my Mom's. I have to get them back to her."

The paramedic helping to hand out the wrapped gifts stared at the bottle. He recognized the pills and took pity on the kid.

"Don't we have those mitten tree donations?"

"Yeah, I forgot about those."

"Well hand me one."

Christmas had been celebrated in style it seemed. They had enough food to last a week. Jason's mother never recovered from her illness and she died just after the New Year. Jason was left to fend for himself.

"Master Jason?" Alfred's words brought Jason out of his thoughts. "My boy, why are you crying?"

"I've . . . I've never had a Christmas this grand before."

"You must thank Master Richard for this then."

"Master Richard?"

"Master Richard Grayson," Alfred answered. "Master Bruce's first ward."

"Oh," Jason responded. 'I thought I was the first.'

The look on Jason's face must have prompted Alfred to ask, "Dear me, hasn't Master Bruce told you about him yet?"

"No," Jason replied.

"If it had not been for Master Richard coming to live with us, Master Bruce would not be celebrating Christmas."

"Really? Why haven't I met this Richard?"

"He's at Hudson University. It is his second year."

"Hudson University? How old is he?" Jason was thinking that Richard Grayson was at least 20 years old.

"He is seventeen," Alfred answered. "Soon to be 18 come March."

"Seventeen and his second year at Hudson?" Jason frowned. "That doesn't compute. I though you had to be at least 18 to go to college."

"Talking about Dick are we?"

"Bruce!"

"Sir, you are home early."

"My meeting got out early," Bruce answered. "Oh Alfred, could you set another place for dinner. Dick called. He finished his finals and he'll be arriving this evening. We'll be going out later as well."

"Dick? I thought you said his name was Richard."

"It is, but he calls himself Dick, a nickname. I see you finally got started on the decorations," Bruce said.

"Yeah," Jason said. "The lights are a mess."

"We can take care of that later."

"Will you and Master Richard be going out to pick a tree?"

It's always been our tradition."

"You going out to buy one?" Jason asked.

"Buy one? No. Dick and I go out into the woods on the property and cut one down. Then later, in the spring we plant three different kinds to replace the one we cut down from Christmas."

'You're kidding," Jason said.

'You've never cut down your own Christmas tree, Master Jason?"

Jason frowned at Alfred's question. "All I ever had was one of those plastic trees that you sit on top of a table. I've never even been out in the woods."

"Well then," Bruce said kneeling down. "We'll just have to rectify that. First thing tomorrow we'll go searching for the perfect tree."

"You mean I can come with you and . . . Dick?" Jason had to keep from snickering at the nickname. 'I bet he's a real dickhead too, being in college and all, and at 17.'

Jason and Bruce were already waiting for dinner when Dick Grayson came in with his suitcases. He left them sitting in the front entryway and entered the dining room.

"Hey Bruce, sorry I'm late," Dick said. "The traffic coming into Gotham City was a little heavy."

"I hope you didn't break any speed records," Bruce said. "And you're not late. We're just getting started."

'Of course I wouldn't do that," Dick replied. "There was an accident outside of New Carthage, but it was only a fender bender."

"Very good, have a seat."

Dick moved to the right of Bruce when he noticed the boy sitting on Bruce's left. 'Oh. Sorry. Where are my manners," he said. "I'm Dick Grayson." Dick stuck out his hand.

"Um, I'm Jason, Jason Todd." Jason took Dick's hand warily. He never shook hands with someone before.

"You told me you had a new ward, Bruce. It's nice to meet you."

"Welcome home, Master Dick."

"Thanks Alfred, it's great to be home. What's for dinner?"

"Beef Wellington, potatoes au gratin with peas and carrots, and cherry pie for dessert."

"You make the best cherry pie, Alfred."

"Thank you, Master Richard."

Jason was puzzled. Dick Grayson wasn't what he expected. Bruce didn't talk about him very much, but when he looked at Bruce, Jason saw something in Bruce's eyes that seemed to be lacking when he looked at Jason, or was he imagining it. Jason had only been at the Manor since the second week of September and Bruce was only here a few times during the week it seemed. Even on the weekends Bruce was scarcely there.

"Ready for our annual trek into the woods tomorrow?" Bruce asked.

"Sure! I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I hope you won't mind, I asked Jason to come along with us."

"Of course not," Dick answered. "Jason, have you ever cut down your own Christmas tree?"

"Um, no."

"You'll love it."

Jason listened as Bruce and Dick chatted about other things, Bruce about the Wayne Foundation and Wayne Enterprises, and Dick about Hudson University and his classes. Jason noticed there were odd comments between them, like 'going fishing' that didn't make any sense. Fishing in the winter? Unless they were into ice fishing, but to talk about going out at night?

"Okay Jason, you still have another week of school," Bruce said. "Have you finished your homework?"

"Not yet," Jason said. 'I'm having trouble with math."

"Maybe I can help you," Dick offered.

"Sure," Jason said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 'Why is he being so nice?'

"Dick," Bruce called. "After you help Jason, meet me in the study."

"Sir, Bruce. Let's get to your homework."

Jason went up to his room, which was right across from Dick's room. When Jason first arrived, he entered the first room on his right.

"That room is already occupied," Alfred had said behind him.

"Who's is it?" Jason asked.

"Master Bruce's first ward."

Jason stared at the room and wondered who that person was. All he could tell from looking at the room was that the person liked a certain musical group called the Oliver Twists. Bruce's first ward also looked like he was some kind of athlete. He had a lot of trophies. But what was also strange was that he liked the circus. He had what looked like a framed poster of a circus act called The Flying Graysons. He never heard of them. The kid in the poster looked pretty cool, doing what looked like several flips.

"Master Richard, your suitcases are in your room."

Jason's thoughts were interrupted.

"You know I better take care of this before it gets too late. I have some gifts I need to unpack."

Jason followed Dick into his room. He watched as Dick placed a suitcase on the bed and opened it. Then he noticed Dick did something very odd. He went up to the circus poster and touched the images of the man and the woman. Why would he do that? Wait a moment. Did Alfred say his name was Grayson? Jason came closer and stood beside Dick. He scrutinized the poster then turned to look at the older teen. Dick slowly turned his head toward Jason giving him a smile that matched the boy's in the poster perfectly.

"You're that kid in the poster!"

"That's me," Dick said sheepishly.

"So, how did you become Bruce's first ward?"

"It's a long story," Dick said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I don't want to bore you with it."

"Come on. How does a circus kid become the ward of a billionaire like Wayne?" Jason crossed his arms and leaned on the desk. He waited for Dick to explain then noticed that Dick was biting his lip, fighting the emotions that were coming to the surface. Jason frowned. What would cause a seventeen-year-old to go emotional over a simple question?

Jason's question hit Dick like a ton of bricks. He didn't expect it to continue to hurt after seven years. 'I guess things like that can still effect us.' Dick moved to the bed and sat down. He had to compose himself, but he was finding it difficult.

Jason just stared. He didn't expect Dick Grayson to react to his question by crying. What would cause such a reaction? He looked up at the poster and figured out that something must have happened to Dick's parents.

"Jason," Bruce called.

Jason looked up to see a frowning Bruce in the doorway.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on your homework?"

"I . . . yes, but Dick was going to help me."

"Get working on it . . . now."

Jason quickly left Dick's room heading across the hall, but he couldn't resist turning back and wanting to know why Dick was upset at such a simple question. Jason turned at his door to see Bruce go into Dick's room.

"You okay, Chum?"

Dick didn't say anything at first. A couple of tears slipped down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt down in front of Dick and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Why does it continue to hurt after all this time? Does it still hurt when you think . . ."

"At times. Yes, there are times when it feels like yesterday when they were . . ." Bruce sighed. "I'll talk to Jason for making you upset."

'What?! Bruce is blaming me for Dick getting upset? I didn't do anything wrong.'

"No, Bruce. It's not his fault. I didn't expect to react the way I did. Besides, I promised Jason I'd help him with his math. We can go out afterward. I'll meet you in the study."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Jason felt a sudden tug on his collar and he was being propelled back toward his room. A lean, but strong arm reached out, opened the door, and pushed him inside. Once he was fully inside, Jason was released. He turned to see a scowling Alfred standing in front of the now closed door. Jason hadn't even heard the door close.

"Master Jason. It is inappropriate behavior to eavesdrop."

"I was just waiting for Dick . . ."

" . . . And making an excuse is equally inappropriate. I shall have to think of an appropriate punishment for this transgression."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Jason fumed.

"I will have to inform Master Bruce what just transpired."

"Oh, please no. It . . . it won't happen again."

"Then you best get started on your homework before Master Bruce comes in to check on you."

"Yes, Sir." Jason sat at his desk and opened his math book. He opened his binder to a clean sheet of paper.

"Very good," Alfred said, leaving Jason's room. He left the door open making it clear that Jason wasn't to have any privacy while he was working. Jason scowled, resting his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands.

"Hey Jason, still need help with that math?" Dick poked his head in Jason's room.

"Um, sure," Jason said. Nothing more was said after that. Jason was still curious about what Bruce and Dick were referring to, but he dared not ask. Besides, there were other ways of finding out.

Continues with Part 2


	6. Chapter 6 Jason Part 2

First Christmas Perspectives: Jason

By

AJ

Part 2

Jason Todd got up early, excited about going out into the woods around the Wayne estate, but Jason didn't know just how large that estate really was. The Wayne estate was massive, the size of a small national park, about 5,000 acres. Excluding the manicured lawns, the house and various gardens that make up 150 acres, the estate included a large expansive area of forest and even a small mountain-like hill near one end of the property. Bordering the property on its north and west sides was Gotham State Park. It made it the largest property outside of Gotham City.

Jason found what he was searching for. He then put on his boots, a heavy coat, a hat, and mittens. He went out one of the back entrances and headed to the woods with the determination of surprising Bruce and Alfred with the perfect tree. It was snowing lightly when he left. Within 30 minutes the snow started coming down heavier with large wet flakes. Whatever trail Jason left was swiftly being covered. Within an hour it had been totally eliminated with the snow coming thick and fast. For Jason, it was a picture perfect moment, straight out of a movie or a scene from a postcard. Jason looked back through the trees to see how far he had come. He could see the rooftop of the manor, but that was all he could see. Soon his vision was shrouded in snow. He looked around and didn't see any trees that looked like pines or any sort of Christmas tree that was suitable, so he continued walking and pulling the small sleigh behind him. Attached to the sleigh was the axe for chopping down a tree, and a length of rope. Jason smiled and continued on his quest.

/

Bruce woke with a start. Something didn't feel right. At that moment, Alfred came in with Bruce's breakfast tray.

"Good morning, Sir," Alfred said,

"Morning, Alfred. What time is it?"

"Almost Noon. It was nearly 3:00 am when you and Master Richard finished your night work. And you did promise Master Jason that you would find a Christmas tree today."

"Oh yeah," Bruce conceded. "Is Jason awake? He's probably been waiting for me to get up,"

"I do not know. Master Jason did not come down for breakfast."

"You mean he's still asleep?"

"His door is closed, but I have not heard any noise."

"Is Dick up?" Bruce asked.

"I just looked in on him. He was just getting up as you were."

"Have him join me for breakfast."

"That is what I anticipated. I have enough here for two."

Alfred knocked on Dick's door.

"Who is it?"

"It is Alfred, Master Richard. Master Bruce requests you join him for breakfast in his room."

"Thanks Alfred," Dick replied as he put on a robe.

Dick entered Bruce's room and saw him in his robe sitting at a small café table reading something in his lap. There was a pot of coffee, two cups, and food enough for two.

Bruce didn't need to look up to know that Dick was there. "How did you sleep?"

"Much better. I always sleep better when I'm here.

"Better mattress?" Bruce asked though the tone in his voice hinted at something more than just Dick's bed whether at the university or at home.

"Something like that," Dick grinned. "Hmmm coffee," Dick poured himself a cup and added a teaspoon of sugar.

"You're too young to drink coffee," Bruce said.

"I'm almost 18 and I've been drinking coffee for three months, though I believe Alfred's is better."

"He adds a little something to it that takes some of the bitterness away and gives it that extra kick," Bruce said. "And don't ask, you know how Alfred is with his recipes."

"I remember," Dick mused then turned to look out the window. "Hey it's really snowing out there. We may have to wait to search for a tree. Jason's going to be disappointed. How long has it been coming down like that? There must be at least six inches. We might not even be able to patrol tonight."

"Well, Batman wouldn't mind a night off. Crime always goes down when there's a snowstorm. Heard you took care of some drug dealers that moved into New Carthage."

"They thought just because some of the students like to party, they were going to liven things up. Only they didn't count on Robin to be there."

"They knew who Robin was?" Bruce asked.

"They actually came up from Gotham City," Dick explained. "I recognized the head dealer."

"Jake Falcone?"

"Yeah, the youngest of the Falcone clan," Dick replied.

"I wondered where he went. He disappeared three weeks ago."

"Jake thought he was going to establish a new territory," Dick explained. "I discouraged him."

"Jake isn't the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Sharpest, I don't think he could find the shed," Dick quipped. "Someone had to put him up to it."

"We'll have to look into it while you're here."

"Great, I can't wait to kick some Falcone butt."

"Master Bruce, Master Richard," Alfred began.

"You know, I've never been able to get him to call me Dick."

"What is it Alfred?"

"It's Master Jason, Sir. He's not in his room."

"Well that's good," Dick replied. "Did you check in his bathroom? He's probably getting ready."

"That's just it Master Richard. His bathroom door was open."

"You mean Jason hasn't been in his room all morning?"

"Looks that way, Sir."

"Have you checked the rest of the house?" Dick asked.

"Yes, Master Richard and he is nowhere to be found."

"I wonder if he's discovered . . ."

"All entrances are sealed. They have not been tampered with."

"Then where . . ." Dick's eyes grew wide. "You don't suppose . . ."

"The Christmas tree." Bruce said. "Alfred, check the mudroom in the garage. And the tool locker."

"You're thinking he might have taken the sled and the axe to cut his own tree."

"I'm not thinking, that's exactly what he's done," Bruce said. "Come on Dick, we better get dressed and see if we can find him."

"It has been snowing for a few hours, Sir. His tracks will be covered by now."

"We'll take the snowmobiles. We may need them."

Dick was dressed and ready within five minutes. He pulled on his heavy boots and thick heavy coat, though he felt weighted down and he started to sweat from the thickness of the fabric. 'I'm not used to wearing this many layers.'

Bruce was already waiting in the garage.

"How could you have gotten ready so fast?"

"Practice," Bruce said with a slight smile.

Dick gave him a grin then got serious. "Which way do you think he would have gone?

"He would need to go toward the woods and where he can find conifer trees. That means either north or west. West is the likely direction. It's closer to the tree line."

"Are you sure?" Dick asked.

"You have a point. Jason has never been out in the woods before."

"Not like you and I," Dick said, remembering.

"We better split up. You take the north end. I'll take the west. We'll meet in the middle."

"Bruce, what if Jason went over the border?"

"You mean into the park? There's only one small area where he can do that. That's right at the corner."

"That's right, we hiked through there once. Do you think we might need help searching?"

"I hope not. If we need help, it will be because we didn't find any trace of him. Then we may be too late. Let's get going."

Dick went north while Bruce moved west. There were a lot more conifers in the northern portion of the property. If Jason were looking for a good Christmas tree, this would be the place. Dick searched for an hour when Bruce's voice came over the loud speaker in his helmet.

"Any luck?"

"No . . . wait . . . I think I see something." Dick moved a little further into a thick grove when he spotted the small sled. The axe was still attached.

"I found the sled," Dick said. "JASON!" Dick called out. "JASON WHERE ARE YOU?"

Dick got off the snowmobile to try to listen for a response. A soft muffled sound reached his ears. It was coming from underneath the trees.

"Jason!"

"I'm . . . in . . . here," Jason called weakly.

Dick moved the branches aside and found Jason huddled in a bare spot surrounded by trees. "Oh thank goodness. We were beginning to worry."

"I'm . . . so . . . cold."

"Why did you come out here by yourself?"

"I . . . wanted . . . to . . . surprise Bruce. Will he be mad?"

"Well, let's just say, he won't be happy, but he'll probably be more worried about you."

"Really?"

"Dick, come in Dick!"

"Just a moment," Dick said. "Hey Bruce, I found Jason. He's cold, but he's alive. We'll head back to the house."

"Okay, I'll see you there."

"No, wait. We can't go. I found a tree."

"Jason, you're nearly frozen. I've got to get you back home or you could get frostbite."

"Please, Dick. I found the perfect tree," Jason pleaded. "I was going to cut it down when I realized I didn't have a big enough sled to carry it and . . . and then I couldn't find my way back because of the snow . . ."

Dick tried to glare at Jason, but realized he just didn't have the knack. 'Bruce is better at it than I am.'

"Please, we have to get the tree."

"All right," Dick relented. "Show me the tree,' he said. 'I know I'm already going to regret this.'

Another thirty minutes later, Dick and Jason were heading back to the house, and just as Dick predicted, Bruce stood at the garage door, glaring at both of them. His glare wavered when he saw what Dick was pulling behind his snowmobile, a perfect blue spruce. And Jason was bringing up the rear as he rode on the sled.

"SURPRISE!" Jason said.

"Sorry, Bruce," Dick said. "He wouldn't leave without it. You have to admit, he did find the perfect tree."

"All right you, two. Inside. Alfred has some hot cocoa ready."

"Yeah!" Jason cheered then raced for the door.

"Are you sure he's all right?"

"He's fine Bruce. You'd be proud of him. He actually found the perfect shelter for himself. He's a little cold, but other than that . . ."

Bruce nodded.

"So you want to help me bring the tree in?" Dick asked.

"Maybe after we have some hot cocoa."

Dick gave Bruce a wide grin and headed inside. It was great to be home. This was turning into one of the best Christmases ever.


	7. Chapter 7 Tim

A/N: In this perspective, Tim is thinking about the past, and Bruce and Dick discuss Tim's situation.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Tim

By

AJ

"You've been all alone?"

"Not quite, the housekeeper is there," Tim Drake said.

"But for the most part, you're parents do a lot of traveling."

"That's the gist of it."

"Don't you ever get . . . you know . . .lonely?" Jason Todd asked.

"Sometimes."

"Where are you spending Christmas?" Tim Drake asked.

Jason got thoughtful for a moment. "Two years ago, I would have said the same thing. Now, with my new Dad and my older brother."

"You're pretty lucky," Tim said. "I better go. I'm expecting a phone call from my parents. They're in Nairobi, helping the refugees. Tim thought back on those days. He couldn't believe those days were now gone. There would be no more phone calls, no more gifts from around the world. When he met Jason Todd his parents didn't come home for Christmas very often, but there were times they would be together, and when they were, they would have the best time, but now those times were gone. And then he lost his friend from school, Jason Todd, the boy who became Bruce Wayne's second son. He had been devastated, but then he realized someone else had been devastated more. He watched that person for several months and saw what was happening. That's when he remembered. Tim looked at the photo taken when he was three years old. He still remembered that night, the night the parents of the kid trapeze artist fell. Each year around that time he would relive that nightmare.

'I wonder if Dick Grayson still continues to have those nightmares as well. I know who he is, inside. I tried to get him to see, that Batman needed him, needed Robin, but . . . I never expected that I would become Robin. I've been with Batman now for three years, at least in part. It's been . . . exciting . . . challenging . . . and exhausting. I don't see how Dick managed it. Then again, Dick was Bruce's ward. He didn't have to hide the fact that he was Robin. Now . . . even if I wanted to tell them, I can't. They're both gone now, and this will be the first Christmas where I'll never receive that phone call.'

/

Batman was aware that something was bothering his partner, though he didn't want to breach his privacy. The relationship he had with the teen was different than what he had with his previous Robins. He still had a relationship with Nightwing, though at times they were at odds. That was the way of it with Fathers and Sons. Jason, he was another, but that relationship had been cut short. He should have listened to his gut. He will always blame himself for not getting there in time. And with Tim, things have been more on a business level. He was an excellent Detective, though his fighting and acrobatic skills weren't up to Dick Grayson's standards. He had to remind himself that Tim had come a long way in his training. He did follow orders and that at least helped to make their relationship work well. Tim reminded him of Dick, though Dick was more enthusiastic and would crack a joke or say a pun, making crime fighting seem more like child's play, though he understood the seriousness of it as well.. Tim was more serious, and understood the dangers just as Dick understood it. But on this night, Tim seemed distracted, and more retrospective.

"Robin, you need to pay attention to the scope."

"Sorry, I can't seem to concentrate tonight."

"You're thinking about your father? Perhaps it was too soon for you to return to duty. You need time to mourn."

"I know, but I can't help thinking . . . I'm going to miss . . . my parents would always call me at Christmas when they were traveling . . . and well . . ."

Batman didn't know what to say at first. He was saved from having to talk about the holiday when what they were tracking showed up on the scope. Batman and Robin were once again in action.

/

A few hours later found Bruce talking with Dick about Tim's situation. "I didn't realize how much time Tim spent alone in that house."

"Does the CPS know that his father is dead? His mother died two years ago, and now he's completely alone. The housekeeper is there, but she's only there during the day. She leaves at night."

"You seem to know a lot about Tim Drake than I do," Bruce pointed out.

"When you were gone, and Jean Paul was Batman, Tim and I had a lot of time to talk. Then you came back and had me fill in. I had Tim staying here to help with rebuilding the Manor. Bruce, didn't you tell me at one time that you and Mr. Drake used to be friends?"

"We were, but we went our own separate ways for a while. He met the girl of his dreams and well . . . you know what my life has been like."

"I know, I joined you in it," Dick reminded him. "And I don't regret it either, if that's what you're thinking. I pushed you into helping me get justice for my parents. Tim . . . his parents just died, his mother from an illness and his father in a plane crash. He needs someone Bruce, just like I needed someone, but for different reasons."

"I've been thinking the same thing,' Bruce said then turned to look at his eldest son. "How would you like a little brother?"

Dick smiled wide the stated, "Whose going to tell him?"

"We both will. Let's bring him home for Christmas."


	8. Chapter 8 Damian

A/N: It's Damian's first Christmas. He's not sure what to make it of it all. Everything seems foreign to him and actually quite lame, until he comes upon something that has a profound affect on him.

/

First Christmas Perspectives: Damian

By

AJ

Damian was puzzled. He had only been with his father, Bruce Wayne for three months. He had seen some strange things but this was the strangest. He watched as Alfred was putting up something in the hallway, some kind of greenery. Then he watched as Alfred placed other items within the greenery, which turned out to be lights. He then spied Alfred later in the main living room putting items along the fireplace. They were shaped like socks. Each had a name on them, Bruce, Richard, Tim, someone named Jason, and then he noticed that one of the socks had his name on it. What were they for? The last item that Damian watched Alfred decorate was a very large tree that Grayson and Father had brought into the house earlier that day. The tree smelled odd. He had not smelled that scent before. It wasn't unpleasant, but he still found it odd that someone would bring such a thing into a house. Finally Damian could not stand it any longer. He had to ask someone what was going on. And that someone was Richard Grayson.

"Grayson, what is all this nonsense?"

"I don't know what you mean," Dick answered.

"All of this," Damian said waving his hand around the room.

"Oh, well, we're getting ready for Christmas."

"What is Christmas?"

"What is Christmas?" Dick asked astounded at the question. "You've never heard of Christmas?"

"Should I?" Damian answered.

"I thought your Mother would have mentioned the Holiday."

"My Mother taught me many things, but she did not mention anything regarding such a Holiday or any Holiday by that matter. And what is a Holiday?"

Dick was surprised at Damian's lack of knowledge about such an important tradition. "A holiday is something that is honored or celebrated. Didn't you celebrate any holidays with your Mother?"

'No, Grayson I did not," Damian answered in a matter of fact way.

"Well then, we'll just have to further your education," Dick said with a grin.

Damian gave Dick a puzzled look, but didn't question further.

Over the course of two weeks, Damian was subjected to all kinds of activities and events related to Christmas, but most of them seemed absolutely lame, with the exception of baking cookies. At least that had a purpose and that was creating something to eat, whether it was healthful or not. The watching of various movies and television specials didn't do much for him, except for maybe seeing a Christmas Carol and the ghost that represented the future. He understood that the ghost was putting fear into the old man, but then things turned rather different and strange. He wanted to see Scrooge die for his so called crimes, not become a weakling begging for forgiveness.

"I still do not understand what this Holiday is supposed to be about," Damian said. "Can no one tell me what Christmas means?"

But no one could really give him a straight answer. Damian finally had it with everything when Dick Grayson tried to take him to a shopping mall filled with a lot of people to see a man in a red suit and white beard.

"What am I supposed to be doing here Grayson?" Damian asked.

"We're visiting Santa Claus. You tell him what it is you want for Christmas."

"This is ridiculous. Santa Claus is not real."

"How do you know?" Dick asked.

"I looked it up. He was created as an advertising stunt."

"Don't let him hear you say that, you'll get coal in your stocking."

"You're not making me do this Grayson," Damian stated.

"Oh come on. How else are you going to get presents from Santa?"

"NO! I will not subject myself to this humiliation," Damian rushed through the growing crowd, trying to avoid what he thought was a very childish and lame excuse to act like a kid. In fact, he saw how many of the other children were reacting to sitting on a lap of a fat man in a red suit. Some of them were absolutely terrified while others were listing off items that were unrealistic. Not only that, he felt it was just down right stupid. So, rather than let Grayson subject him to that kind of humiliation, he ran.

"Damian, come back!"

Damian didn't want to listen to Grayson's excuses and overly cheery demeanor. All he wanted was to be by himself and try to figure out why everyone was so enamored over a holiday that seemed to cause so much stress, people rushing everywhere, carrying packages, and sometimes growling at each other when bumping into one another without regard. Grayson had told him it was a joyous occasion, but what he was seeing had nothing to do with joy. Damian weaved in and out of the crowd until he came upon one of the exits and he pushed through the crowd as it was coming in until he could breath the fresh air once again. Once outside, he realized he didn't have any place to go. He couldn't remember where Grayson had parked the car and all he saw was a multitude of vehicles and no other way of getting home. So, Damian did the only thing he could. He started walking. He must have walked the full length of the parking lot when he realized he was getting cold. The thought of going back to the mall and finding Grayson left him feeling disgraced. He needed a place of refuge. When he looked up, he saw a building across the street that had a familiar structure to it.

It looked similar to the buildings he had seen when he and his nanny would go out into the market to buy some special treats. She would point out to him the various places of worship, though his Mother scoffed at such places, saying they were for the weak. He felt a pang of sadness remembering when his nanny had been killed trying to protect him from receiving a severe punishment for disobeying. Why she put herself between him and her Mother's wrath he did not understand. When he cried over her dead body, his Mother accused him of being weak like his father for showing any form of compassion. That was when he questioned her as to the identity of his father, and put him on a path that would forever change him.

Damian approached the building and looked inside. The place appeared empty, but it was warm and inviting. A scene was set up that reminded him of home. There was some kind of structure with animals, though the animals didn't move. There was a wooden straw manger, much like the ones at home that would feed the sheep. What was this? There was something serine about it. A noise off to the side caused Damian to turn his head and a group of people in robes approached. Each carried what looked like a black binder. They filed in two by two. They moved down the center isle then split on either side. What followed after was several others dressed like shepherds. They moved to one side of the rows of benches. Then three men dressed in their finery, like kings came in and moved to the other side. Finally at the back three others came in waiting. One of them moved so he was half way up the isle. One was a woman robed in blue. She sat upon a donkey. She glanced in his direction, smiled, but did not say anything. The other man held the donkey in place. It was the only live animal in the whole proceedings. Then a voice coming from a loud speaker started telling the story and each of the characters moved in place.

The woman on the donkey and the man moved to the center of the isle. As the story progressed so did the couple coming upon the structure. Suddenly from her robes she produced a baby, a doll really, but the story continued. Damian was entranced. As the story unfolded, music played and the choir sang. Another person appeared as if like magic, all dressed in white with a pair of wings. The shepherds were told where to find the babe and they moved in place. Then the three kings came, bearing gifts for the child. Damian did not know why this scene affected him. Tears were streaming down his face when the story was finished and the people stopped and started to talk.

"That was perfect. We'll be all ready for tonight."

Tonight? What was special about tonight?

Damian remained not certain as to what he should do. He ran away from Grayson and now he felt bad about leaving him. He probably was worried and he should return to the mall.

"Did you like the story?" It was the woman who was on the donkey.

"Yes," Damian said, "But I do not know why."

"Your heart knows. It is the story of our savior."

"Our savior? I do not understand."

"Have you not heard or seen the Christmas story?"

"No," Damian stated. "I was never told this story"

"It is the reason for Christmas, the birth of the son of God, who would die for our sins. He brought forgiveness and healing into the world."

Damian was floored. Why hadn't Grayson told him about this?

"Why are you weeping?"

"I . . . ran away . . . from . . . " Damian said, but he wasn't sure of the word.

"From whom?" the woman's voice was compelling, gentle, much like his nanny's voice.

"My . . . my brother," Damian whispered, acknowledging Dick Grayson for the first time. Damian remembered when he arrived when Father introduced him to Grayson, Father said he was his big brother. Damian didn't want to accept it because Grayson was not born a Wayne, but hadn't Dick shown him by his actions what being a brother meant? What being family meant?

"I should return to the mall. He will be searching for me."

"I shall go with you. Perhaps we can find him together."

The woman dressed in her blue robes walked back to the mall with Damian. Damian searched around, and soon spotted Grayson by the service counter talking with a bored looking security guard, no more like screaming at him.

"GRAYSON!" Damian called.

"DAMIAN!" Dick rushed up to him and grabbed him in his arms. "You had me worried. I was about to call out the cavalry," which was code for calling Batman. Damian was glad that Grayson had not, otherwise he would have to explain to Father why he ran away.

"I . . . apologize for running away."

"Thank you for finding him. Where was he?"

"Across the street in the church."

"The church?" Dick asked.

"We were rehearsing for tonight for the midnight service."

Dick blinked then realized how the woman was dressed and then realized what day it was.

"Grayson, can we attend this church?" Damian asked. "We can bring Father, Drake, and Pennyworth."

Dick noticed there was something different about Damian. Something had touched him, a serenity that had not been there before.

"Yes, Damian," Dick smiled softly. "I think we can persuade everyone."

"Then we shall see you there." All eyes fell on the woman as she walked back the way Damian came. She seemed to float on air, disappearing into the crowd.

"I have a question," Damian said. "Why did you not tell me about the . . . Christmas story . . . the birth . . . of . . ."

"You didn't give me a chance. You see after Santa Claus, tonight I was going to take you to a midnight church service. There are two aspects of Christmas, Santa Claus and the giving of gifts and the story of the birth of Jesus."

"Grayson, I didn't get gifts. I need to get a gift for Father and . . . ."

"For the rest of us?" Dick said with a side ways tilt of his head. "There's no need to get me a gift. But if you want to get something for Bruce, I know just the thing. But we have to hurry. We've got to meet Tim and Alfred."

Damian and Dick rushed through the mall then found the place they were looking for.

"Glamour Shots?" Damian questioned. "I am not going to dress up in costume."

"You don't have to, but I think Bruce would love it just the same. And we can finish our shopping afterward."

"Before we go in there's something I want to say," Damian hesitated.

"What is it?"

Damian threw his arms around Dick Grayson's waste, which surprised the young man. 'I'm glad you're my brother. And if you tell anyone I said so, I will deny it."

"I love you, too Damian."

Damian released his brother then said, "Now let's get this over with."

Dick Grayson laughed as they went inside to meet the others.

End

A/N: I thought of all people Damian would be the one who would be profoundly affected by the Christmas Story, the true meaning of Christmas, since he had not been told about it, and everything else would seem childish to him. I hope you have enjoyed these perspectives as I have enjoyed bringing them to you.

Merry Christmas everyone and Happy New Year.


End file.
